Only Purpose
by Telvuling
Summary: miroku-centric; a curse is a sign of who the true master is, and there will never be a more romantic way to put it...


Inuyasha, the series, is great and all (and I'm pathetic and all) but in all seriousness, I am tired of the repetitiveness of the anime. it may be that the English dubbed voices are pathetic and incompetent and maybe I should watch the Japanese version but I seriously doubt there is any difference.  
  
The whole series in list and sardonic form:  
  
Girl meets boy  
  
Insert bad guy  
  
Girl, boy meets boy  
  
Insert bad guy  
  
Girl, boy, boy meets girl  
  
Insert bad guy  
  
Love interests of girl, boy and girl, boy (although fan girls would beg to differ)  
  
Insert bad guys.plural guy.guy-s.*collective.gasp*  
  
Sexual tensions *collective.delayed.gasp*  
  
Insert more than one bad guy.*gasp*  
  
More heroic acts *collective.*  
  
Insert bad guy.*collective.*  
  
*GASP* WHY AREN'T THEY DEAD YET!!!!!!????  
  
See my point!?  
  
That's ok, they can do whatever they want with the series.I could care less.so now in service of my beloved, favorite character.Miroku.I shall remove him from the vicious cycle of spontaneous heroic feats and.*sniff*.  
  
Disclaimer: own none of characters and Miroku *sniff* so don't sue  
  
Note: One-shot. First fic. Miroku-centric. Angst. Nonyaoi (not anti- yaoi.hehehehe...). Incoherent blubbering. Phrases, not sentences. Meant to be true first-person. Because sentences hate me, as does grammar. Enjoy!  
  
Only Purpose  
  
It hurts. I don't remember when it had hurt this much. I can't say where I am. I can't tell if my in a dark room or if my eyes are closed. I can't tell if I'm lying or sitting up. I can't tell.where it hurts.anymore. But it's dark.and all I have to think about is the pain and I'm left with myself. Myself. The pain's fading now. or I'm fading.  
  
"Hello?" My tongue is without moisture. "Hello?" I call out into the darkness.  
  
"Hello."  
  
The surprise chills me.  
  
"Hello?" I ask again distrustful of my own ears.  
  
"I'm Miroku, who are you?" He was young.  
  
"I'm." his name sounds familiar, his voice too. "I'm." My name. My name? "I can't say I remember."  
  
Silence.  
  
"Where are you?"  
  
"I'm over here."  
  
I follow the voice, turning my head. "I can't see you."  
  
"I can see you."  
  
The voice is different. Playful? Shy? "Can you tell me where I am?"  
  
"No."  
  
I frown at the blunt answer. He didn't sound like he didn't know. He sounded like he refused to tell me.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Master told me not to."  
  
"Where is you master?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Can I talk to him?"  
  
"He said he'd be here soon. He told me to show you."  
  
"Show me what?"  
  
"This."  
  
Red. Bright red. The pain began again. It was sudden. The pain took my breath away. Pain. My head was throbbing as if my heart was logged in it. It faded. Thankfully. Until all it was a dull ache in my right hand. My breathing became normal. Shaky but normal.  
  
"That hurt," I said as calmly as possible. "Why did you want to show me that?"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Hello?" calling into the darkness.  
  
"Hello." It was a deeper voice. Strangely loud and clear.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"I'm the master."  
  
"Can you tell me where I am?"  
  
A chuckle. "I don't think that's your greatest concern right now." The voice was booming now, resounding in my mind. "Don't you want to know who you are?"  
  
The darkness is now overwhelmingly hideous. "Yes." I say it as if I am uncertain.  
  
A throaty chuckle. "Very well."  
  
A light falls in front of me. A little boy steps into the spotlight. He wears a simple robe and sandals.  
  
"Miroku, show this poor man what you can do?"  
  
The boy's eyes sparkle as if in anticipation. He gingerly lifts his right hand, unwrapping the meticulously bond beads that enclosed his hand.  
  
A wind. A blast of power.  
  
My eyes could not look away.  
  
A void. Crackling with power.  
  
I feel myself falling. Falling towards the void. Too dark. Falling. I can't tear my eyes away.  
  
Darkness.  
  
Darkness.  
  
The descent has stopped. But it doesn't seem I've reached the bottom yet.  
  
"This is Miroku's bane." The master's voice still echoes off the sides of my mind.  
  
Darkness.  
  
Eternal darkness.  
  
Like a well. Without a bottom.  
  
It was dark but I could sense that there was more space below.  
  
A hand.  
  
Pulling.  
  
I can't tell where it was holding me.  
  
Pulling.  
  
Another hand.  
  
My mouth opens in a soundless gasp.  
  
This is your bane too.  
  
Another hand.  
  
The weight is unbearable, as if I had to fight to stay where I am, so not to descend.  
  
Another.  
  
Another.  
  
Eyes. Opening. Unblinking. Staring.  
  
Millions of eyes.  
  
This is what you have created.  
  
Suddenly I have been let go.  
  
Back to be position that I was before.  
  
The spotlight is gone, as is the boy.  
  
My breathing is heavy. The air seems heavier than before. The darkness.darker.  
  
You've been taking this curse for granted.for too long.  
  
My head involuntarily jerks up.  
  
Your predecessors were brainless men, as are you.  
  
A new pain shears through my head.  
  
A curse is a sign.  
  
Memories. A tidal wave of memories.  
  
a sign of who you master is.  
  
The slaughter of the waves is relentless.  
  
who owns your life.  
  
Flashes of memories.  
  
your childhood.  
  
Fear. Pain. Joy. Love. Anxiety.  
  
your growth.  
  
I am.  
  
your death.  
  
Miroku.  
  
Every time, you reopened the curse. It was to my benefit. It was so because I willed it.  
  
My sight returns ever so slightly.  
  
The curse belongs to me. You belong to me.Miroku.  
  
The superficial pain on my right hand returns.  
  
Your grandfather, father and you have aided me.  
  
The booming chuckle.  
  
How ironic.  
  
I come fully awake.  
  
You're ready.  
  
I stand up.  
  
Something's wrong.  
  
I've been pushed back. I've been pushed from my body. Pushed back further in my mind and I'm watching.  
  
I'm in a clearing. It's night. There's a dying fire. Four sleeping figures.  
  
"Miroku, what are you doing up?"  
  
My head turns, involuntarily.  
  
Inuyasha.  
  
Miroku, show this poor man what you can do.  
  
My right hand rises slowly.  
  
I'm watching it rise.  
  
No.  
  
Its bonds are unwrapped.  
  
"What are you doing!?"  
  
A wind. A blast of power.  
  
A blow to my right side. I stumble.  
  
Painless.  
  
I can only watch.  
  
All of them have stood up.  
  
"Miroku!?"  
  
Sango.  
  
My hand turns towards her.  
  
NO!  
  
The sad thing is.they won't live to understand.  
  
Blood. My blood.  
  
I fall back. The curse still not completely open.  
  
Inuyasha holds me by my shoulders, pinning me to a trunk.  
  
"What do you think you're doing!?"  
  
Show them.  
  
The curse greatens in strength. The bonds no longer holding it in.  
  
Inuyasha jumps back in front of the others.  
  
Wind. Power.  
  
Pulling them in. Towards the void.  
  
NO!  
  
No?  
  
The wind stops, suddenly.  
  
The curse is still open, but there is no wind.  
  
You're right. This is much too merciful.  
  
They stare at me. Shocked and bemused.  
  
I want you to watch them die.  
  
The wind. A blast of power.  
  
Something's different.  
  
They are being pushed back. Away from me.  
  
Bring hell to them.  
  
It streams out of my hand. I can feel the opening rip wider.  
  
Can you empty a bottomless well?  
  
But there is no pain.  
  
Masses. Masses of demons. River of demons.  
  
This is your only purpose.  
  
Army of demons.  
  
To be my weapon.  
  
NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!  
  
Mine.  
  
Darkness.  
  
It's dark. Pain.  
  
I can't tell.  
  
I open my eyes. Willing fully. Hesitantly. Everything.is.gone. Like the darkness.  
  
I'd rather be in darkness.  
  
I can't see them. Maybe that's for the better. I remember.everything. The memories are flowing in numbly now. I don't want to care anymore.  
  
Pain.  
  
I turn my head stiffly to my left. The untransformed tetsusaiga logged in my left shoulder. I don't care anymore. I lifted my right hand. My cursed hand. There was no curse.  
  
It was gone.  
  
.only purpose.  
  
I let out a breathless cry. Tears. I grip the hilt tightly. I yank. I don't care. Anymore. I feel the tip slide in. I welcome the pain. The shearing pain that tore my tired mind apart. I closed my eyes. Darkness.  
  
It doesn't hurt anymore.  
  
End  
  
Author's note: Did I mention that it was a deathfic? Sorry if that disappointed you and made you extra angsty.but it would have given away the end!!!! I used no Japanese.if that disappointed others. So review.my bad grammar is probably a given since I was the only one who proof-read it.review so I can go back to my pitiful corner and cry and be depressed about the world since now I'm done writing for life. Did I mention that I'm sardonic? 


End file.
